“Marcus Longinus, Gnaeous Domitius Ahenobarbus, Marcus Vincius. Some of the most influential men in the Senate. All consular rank. They, Agrippina…there is a soup to be cooked, and we have to taste it. You have a week. Then you get your Ulrich. And I might still get to live.”
He sounded paranoid.
But even the paranoid had enemies.
I cleared my throat. “I take it I can use whatever force I need?”
He shook his head. “As long as nothing leads to me. I wish you luck. And if you help me, I am grateful. And as for the games?” He looked tired. “You sure? We could just murder him in some other way. Coin to the cook, and he—”
“I want to see him fall,” I said.
He nodded. “The day before, Sejanus will take you and your—”
“You are right,” I said. “Gochan will not come along.”
“What?” asked my brother.
“I will go alone,” I said, waving him down.
“The day before,” he said, looking at the huge man with suspicion, “you will go to Sejanus. He will put you in the group of war prisoners. You will then play the game. If you lose, it will not obviously matter what happens. If you win, which is not likely, and it has not been designed that you should, you will be granted freedom. Usually, the winners would go to the ludus that fought you, in this case that Dead Mars one.”
“I would prefer not to go there, when I win,” I said.
He laughed dryly. “When. When you win. You have some…fine. I can help, of course. I am happy to. If you die, a good funeral, since you will not actually be a gladiator and have not joined any collegium to cover the expenses.”
I nodded. He was thinking he was being generous. “And you said Agrippina meets this Pollio every week? Few times? She lives—”
“Agrippina leaves for these events every other day,” he said. “From my house, down Palatine way, the long underground underway to the Forum. There she visits the Temple of Saturn. From there, she uses a benna, or they carry her. Sometimes her girls, Agrippina the Younger, Julia Drusilla, and Julia Livilla, walk with her to the forum, if it is still light, and then they turn back.”
“What of the boys?” I asked and knew I had made a mistake.
He smashed his hand on the table. The table and the cup broke. “The would-be rulers over my son? Nero and Drusus Caesar? And that small catamite, Gaius Julius Caesar? The little Caligula? They are guarded and at home. She won’t see them leave the home. Thinks they might get pummeled. Some days, they show up in the Forums with many of our guards and hers, to preen and remind everyone of their fucking father, and they even visit Senate to receive praise. It is your fault. Germanicus should have died in battle.”
I blinked and hoped for pardon. “I failed.”
He smiled coldly, reading my mind. “I do know. Let us talk about my trouble, for change, shall we? Because you failed and I have plenty.”
I bowed my head as he shook his.
He moved his hair out of his mouth and cursed. “I have trouble, yes. It is to be expected, when one is the servant of Rome and must make all the tough decisions,” he lamented. “They think I did it. Mother is blamed too. And Mother I have pushed aside from all matters of the state. She tried to muscle in, but did not do too well. I made her insignificant. Still, they curse me.”
I shrugged. I had heard such curses hurled at the back of the man.
He waved his hand tiredly. “I want your service, Hraban. I know you have failed, but you never fail fully. I trust you might find something of use. Let Sejanus guard me. Sejanus knows his limits. We have failed to procure anything.”
He gave Sejanus a quick look.
“The man who shares my burdens,” Tiberius said with a shaky, grateful voice, and I worried for him.
He had changed.
Guarded, wounded, desperate for someone to trust.
“I will do your bidding,” I said. “I will follow her.”
His eyes flickered to the huge shadow nearby. “Brother. That man is your brother. I see it in him. I am no fool.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Brother here, and there. Maroboodus is a goat.”
I winked. “Make sure he is only served by men in Ravenna. It will drive him crazy.”
He quaffed and then laughed, banging his hand on the desk. “And excellent idea. Worthy of making a note. Sejanus!”
Sejanus came forward, hand on sword’s hilt. “I will remember. I need not—”
“Ah, nothing like your sharp mind,” Tiberius sighed. “Never mind. It is I who must write everything down these days. But as for the future beyond this point, Hraban, what shall we do? Trust is hard to come by after some failures. Your family is not in Rome, as we planned together. It is upsetting.”
His eyes were stone-hard. He did not like the fact I had reneged on that part of our agreement. He did not like many other things. He hated that Germanicus had not died in battle, and that Maroboodus had fallen at my hands, where he would have been useful in Germania, and that he had no access to my family.
Trust he had for Sejanus, but only because he had his life on his hands. Sejanus owed everything to him. Their family was at the clutches of Tiberius.
Mine was not.
He had seen Gochan and knew the warrior would not be my weak point. He knew Gernot would not easily be captured.
He would have wanted my family.
He was not sure if they had died, or I had changed our agreement.
He dared not ask. Flavus had not told him.
He knew what I was thinking. “Flavus told me he didn’t see them.”
“They are dead,” I said.
I looked down.
He stared, and then he slumped. “I am sorry.”
Trust.
The lack of it was thick in the air. There was an odd, empty look in his eyes. He was fondling the broken cup absentmindedly.
A wise man would have me killed. A wise Princeps even more so. I knew too much.
“So,” I said casually, “Agrippina the Elder came to Rome, with her children. And then the unrest began, after Germanicus was buried.”
“Aye,” he said darkly. “She has been making many accusations towards me. People demand I adopt her Nero and her Drusus.”
“So many Drususes,” I said softly. “So very many. Your brother, your son, son of Germanicus…”
He looked unhappy I had an opinion on the matter. “It’s not only the people. She is making it worse. She is highly active with senators, and while she claims to be loyal to me…I wonder. They all circle around her like she was a pot of honey. I forbid her from marrying.”
“You wonder if she hides something deeper,” I said. “Something that is far deeper than a plain angry word hurled your way in the city street, or the Senate. Very well. What of Antonia?”
“The wife of my brother,” he murmured. “Hates Claudius, who is a pest and a nuisance. I will have to give him something. No cursus honorum, but triumphal ornaments? I know not. Something. He wants to be a questor! Fool. Ah, but Antonia. She is the wise, silent lady. Very silent. She rarely speaks of Drusus. Ah, wine.”
Gernot had come over and grunted a greeting, leaving the wine on the table with new cups. The bottle was made of glass, a fabulous, pale green treasure, and Tiberius wondered at it, before he took it and poured it.
He tasted the wine and then, in plain shock, stopped.
He had forgotten to have someone else taste it.
“You can trust me, lord,” I murmured. “You always could. I might fail to deliver onto you everything you desire, but I do not fail your trust.”
He smiled and then nodded, and set the cup on the table, nonetheless. “Trust. Trust is a thing to take a man to his grave. I miss our old Augustus, the father of the nation, who trusted nobody. None. Never did. Not even Agrippa. Certainly not poor Julia. I only trust two people. Vipsania, my first wife, a bed for Gallus the bastard, she is. Three sons. At least. You know, when she was sick last year, I rushed to
her. She sent me a letter and expected to die. I went to her that very night. Her husband had to disappear when I insisted to see her. But she is not mine. Only in my heart.”
He was quiet.
“Who is the other one?”
“Eh?”
“The other one you trust,” I said. “You just told me there are only two—”
“Ah, my brother, to whom I speak in the darkness of night,” he said, looking down. “Him.”
I might have been mistaken, but there was a flash of shame in his eyes.
“To Drusus, then,” I said, “and to the health of your one love, lord.”
He lifted his cup, hesitated, and drank. “To Drusus.”
“The best of men,” I murmured.
He nodded, looking darkly at me. It seemed he was mulling over murder. Still.
He might have been cruel before, but now it was more …visible. More…tempting for him.
He sighed. “Do well. My son,” he said softly, “is married to his cousin, Livilla. Sweet girl. They seem happy. There is now blood of Augustus for the scum of Rome to love. You remember Livilla? You remember Gaius Caesar.”
“We put him to his death,” I told him. “Or tried.”
“You failed then, too,” he murmured.
“Wandal saved him and…” I began and tried to forget my friend. “What do you expect of me? I mean after.”
“To kill men for me,” he said simply. “High men. I expect they will come for me, Agrippina or not.”
“The senators are still dreaming of the Republic?” I asked him. “I shall slit all their throats?”
He waved his hand lazily. “Ever and always have I dreamt of seeing that. The lies. They spit them over me. They speak of the Republic when the right crowd stands before them. It brings support and money, that word, and I doubt it not there are many old families who dream of times before just because of their vision of Rome. Well, I have mine.” He touched the glass bottle admiringly and I noticed Sejanus was mumbling words.
The exact words Tiberius had just uttered.
Either he agreed the Senators should all die, or he gave the thoughts to him.
Tiberius stretched his back and sighed. “I am still very much worried about the people’s unhappiness, but they cannot do much. I have a legion in Rome. I worry for things I cannot see. I know there is a conspiracy at work. Agrippina is at the heart of it right now, but I have no proof. Her six brats, and Claudius, her brother—”
“Claudius,” I murmured, accidentally interrupting him.
He exploded again. “The idiot, the imbecile, the cripple clown none bear to see. He has a good relationship with his sister, my son’s wife, but not so much with the brood of Octavianus. Germanicus’s widow and her children shun him. Why did you say his name?”
“Make the man your spy,” I said simply. “Keep him on your leash. None would suspect him.”
“I have spies aplenty,” he said darkly. “And trouble. I still want none of this. Not one bit. My mother’s anger after I pushed her out is enough to turn the stomach…” He went quiet and looked at me. “Is that why you would stay? Is that the thing that might make you trustworthy? That promise?”
“It would do,” I said.
He laughed, relieved, suddenly not going to murder me. “Aye, you will see her die one day. I have not forgotten. I keep my word. Trust, see? It has been found! There is something you genuinely want! We have a pact then. Still. You will see her die.”
“May it be soon,” I said softly.
He looked at me with some hidden emotion and then grasped the glass bottle and admired it, keeping his eyes deep in its mesmerizing contents.
I smiled. I nodded. “I shall begin, then.”
He looked pleased. “Good. I wish you luck. You are training?”
I bowed my head to him. “I am training. I have had one year.”
He smiled at my asperity. “So, on the first day of Saturnalia, Sejanus will deal with all the practical matters. You know how to find him. First, you put your full heart and mind into this.” He turned, hesitated, lifted the bottle, and looked at Gernot. My brother nodded at him. He smiled his thanks and left, with Sejanus in tow. The praetorians filed out after him.
I watched Gernot, who rubbed his face. “I wish you luck. You shall need it. You are going to die, you damned idiot. A sacrifice for Saturn.”
I pulled out the scroll. I let my hand run across a name.
Ulrich. Murmillo.
Gernot grunted. “And I don’t like this business with Pollio. Nor do I like that Sejanus. I know a bit about them, you know. He and his father. This line they are drawing from Agrippina to a cup of murder…” He looked dark and worried.
“Tiberius will let me into the games as a form of noxii,” I told him, “and there, I shall fight my way through Ulrich and the melee. He will pardon me. And now we must start looking into Pollio.”
“I shall not pretend to understand,” he said. “And I do as you want. But Hraban, not forever. I too have people who depend on me.”
Gochan leaned forward and was face to face with me. “He is right. We do help, but not if it means death for simple act of vengeance, and oaths we never gave. But yes, I shall help for now. And what shall I do? Eh? I came here to make coin and to protect your sorry arse.”
I pushed his face back. “You can protect me for a week. If I die? Then you work with Gernot.”
Gernot nodded. “I could use him. I already do. I have a new business venture in north. In Ravenna, as it happens. Did you know Flavus lives in Ravenna, when he is not serving Rome as a speculatore?”
I frowned. I didn’t like Flavus much. “No.” I played with the broken cup. “Now, as for Agrippina and Pollio. We start today.” I watched Gernot. “I don’t want you too involved in this. More than what you are doing. But I do appreciate it.”
He nodded. “I have started to move out of Rome. I knew this would happen. Most of my assets are hidden, and under different names. What else do you need?”
“Safe houses,” I said. “Armor, coin, food. Two houses.”
He grunted. “I will set you up with two places in the city, as well as money and weapons. I will be in south for much of my time, but I shall do my best.”
I thanked him with a squeeze on his shoulder. “Too bad for this place.” I waved my hand around the tavern. “If things go wrong, they will take it.”
“They will,” he said with a sly grin. “Though this is not my establishment. I have ten such in Rome, and dozens of other businesses all over the land, but not this one.” He winked. “This is my competitor’s place. I rented it from him under a false name. In case there is trouble, I do not mind if Sejanus and his merry boys come here to make trouble. The bottle was not mine either. Now, Hraban. I shall aid you for a while longer. Tell me what you want me to do.”
I sat back and thought hard.
Gochan groaned. “Oh shit. I have seen that face before. Like a sour grape, the face is.”
Gernot waited and sat down to drink. He was cleaning the bits and pieces from the table.
Finally, I roused myself. It had been a long while.
“So. Woden was whispering in your ear?” Gernot asked.
I smiled. “Yes. I need you to approach some people. And I need you to ruin one.”
“Yes,” he said, sighing. “I smell trouble. Lok’s balls, you…fine. Tell me.”
“Then listen,” I said. “First. Rumor. Spread a rumor, and we get a man removed from power. Later, we can help him get back up the ladder. Just in case things go wrong, see?”
They did.
“And what Tiberius said…about trust,” I wondered, and listened to Woden, and conjured up the worst possible case that might happen, save for death.
I looked at my fingers and closed my eyes.
“We must be prepared,” I said. “Guard yourself but set up a trap. Have men watch a certain house. One house. From here on forward, until you say differently. Also, find Maximus.”
; And then I spoke to them. I told them which man had to be pushed down from a lofty place, what house I had in mind, and why they should find Maximus. Also, what Gernot should do to guard himself, while it would serve me.
It was all a long shot. Much of it might not be needed. But I had learnt how to protect myself.
They liked none of it.
Gernot nodded. “These things I shall do. Then, I shall start to protect myself fully. And Gochan, if he wants it.”
Gochan nodded. “There is no coin with you. Only battles.”
I smiled and felt envy, and relief.
I did not want either one dead.
And Woden whispered to my ear; death was close.
CHAPTER 2 (ROME, A.D. 20, December 1st)
The Temple of Saturn was a gigantic structure, and the great pillars rose high before me. Sunna was setting as I passed through a crowd of witnesses for hire—lawyers, merchants, and whores, and leaned on the wall, looking in. The cowl was heavy over my face, and I had to shift it some to see better. The voices echoed strangely in the great corridors of the hallowed temple, and I saw so many people inside that I knew I had lost them. They had had guards with them, one Germani guard each, dozens of praetorians in their dark armor and lofty helmets, and slaves.
People cheered.
I knew they were near.
They people cheered again and loved them, for no other reason than the name of Germanicus.
I had waited for them for two days, and it was only five until Saturnalia.
The way down from Palatine, the one that went underground for a good while, a tunnel with shaded corners and no beggars, had spewed forth the regal lady and her children, and guards, and officia, plus some dozen clients of Germanicus.
I tried to see them.
There, inside the temple, the podium was the hub of activity. People were reading bills that had been posted by the Senate or by lawyers seeking clients.
Then, I spotted the group.
Finally.
They were walking the left side of the temple, eyeing the great roof with wonder. Before them, at the other end of the temple, where the private part began, men were shifting to meet them. There were dozens of guards, both praetorians and Germani, and temple guards as well, for the official scales for metals were kept there, as well some of the gold and silver.
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